


Here we go

by lourrygum



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, M/M, Spanking, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lourrygum/pseuds/lourrygum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael comes to Ashton with a request</p><p>or, michael subs for the first time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here we go

**Author's Note:**

> This is just 4K of smut and a lot of aftercare bye

Ashton comes into the room to see Michael naked, like he had told him to be, and sitting on the edge of his large bed. With his phone in his hand Michael keeps his eyes on his phone screen, his breath catching in his throat as he feels Ashton’s eyes on him.

“Michael.” He says sternly, and Michael guesses that he’s trying to be gentle. Michael lets a full two seconds pass, reading whatever is on the screen, before he locks it lets it fall onto the bed. He looks up at Ashton, a small smirk on his lips, disobeying just to disobey. Ashton realises that Michael is, of course, far from innocent. He has his own sub. He knows what is expected of him.

"Yes?" He asks.

Ashton's jaw clenches visibly, and he takes a few slow steps in Michael's direction, stopping when Michael's knees are against his own legs. He looks down at him and Michael looks right up at the older boy, the thrill of defiance shining bright in his green eyes.

"I can see I'll have to teach you some manners." Ashton murmurs. Michael wants to scoff at the threat, but manages to contain himself, drawing his lip between his teeth instead. It’s hard, losing the position of control. He stares silently at Ashton. "I would have thought you of all people know what a good sub should act like." Ashton raises a hand, and Michael flinches, but Ashton just threads his fingers through Michael's soft red hair.

"How would I-"

"Stop _interrupting_ ," Ashton frowns.

"This is the first time-" Ashton's grip on Michael's hair tightens and he pulls, hard. Michael groans in shock and pain, squealing as Ashton tightens his fist. He comes to his senses as the pain starts to normalise itself, shutting his mouth and not making a sound. Ashton loosens his hold after a few seconds.

"You will not speak while I’m speaking." Ashton says, voice hard with irritation. He takes Michael’s silence to mean understanding, continuing, "It’s not like you're exactly easy on Luke. Are you?"

Michael shrugs, looking at his lap, scalp tingling a little. Ashton’s right, he’s the opposite of easy on him. Luke loves it when Michael goes all the way, pushes him to his limits, and Michael had never really been able to feel that thrill Luke must get. He could never lose control of himself, not while Luke was absolutely lost to his own pleasure.

" _Answer_ , Michael."

“I guess not." Michael breathes.

“Speak up. When I allow you to speak, you fucking do so.”

“I guess.” Michael says louder, a little too loud. Ashton’s eyes narrow at the younger boy. 

"You guess? We can't fucking sleep most nights, with the poor boy's moaning and whining. You fuck him up so bad, he can barely even walk some days. Leave him covered in bruises, slide your hand down his pants just to torture him a little when you think no-one's looking. I'm not _stupid_ , Michael, I know."

Michael breathes out shakily. "It's not like you're not the same with Calum." He says, his voice defensive.

Ashton is silent and Michael's sure he's going to pull his hair again for speaking out of turn, but he lets him go completely and takes a step back.

"You don’t learn easily, do you, slut? Get on your knees."

Michael hesitates for a second before tucking his feet under himself and raising himself on his hands. He drops his head down to share at the pale bedsheets, waiting for Ashton to do something.

Ashton’s voice comes as smooth as silk, “What do you think your punishment should be, hm?”

“You could- could fuck my mouth.” Michael breathes, eyes fluttering closed when Ashton doesn’t say anything.

When he gets is Ashton's hand in his hair again, tugging his head up and meeting his gaze. Michael flinches a little at his sudden closeness, putting all his strength into not struggling out of Ashton's hold. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to let go of the urge to be in charge all the time.

After a few seconds, Ashton asks softly, "Colour?"

"Green."

Ashton nods, his eyes trailing over Michael’s face, then stopping at his lips, slightly swollen from Michael’s teeth against them. "What makes you think that you're going be rewarded by sucking my cock, Michael? Have you been good enough for it?"

Michael shakes his head slowly, determinedly resisting the urge to talk back. Ashton smirks and a ball of need starts to curl in his stomach.

“’S’all that pretty fuck hole’s good for anyway.” Ashton concedes, rubbing the flat of his thumb against Michael’s soft bottom lip. “Isn’t that right, slut?”

Michael nods immediately, eyes staring desperately into Ashton’s. Ashton pushes his head back down again so Michael's staring at the bed again.

" _Answer_ me."

"N-no, I don’t deserve your cock.”

"No." Ashton repeats somewhat mockingly, "You don’t."

Ashton doesn't say anything else. Michael's breath catches in his throat as he hears him walk around to his left side, then kneel onto the bed, making the mattress dip a little behind Michael.

He runs a hand over Michael's upraised ass, squeezing softly. Michael moans quietly and in the same instant, Ashton lifts his hand and brings it back down, his palm smacking hard against the pale flesh.

" _Fuck,_ " Michael pants, hands balling into fists, reeling at the sting of it. It’s intense, and Ashton doesn’t grant him a single second to recover, his hands squeezing where he slapped roughly.

"Hands." Ashton tuts, and Michael knows enough to uncurl his fingers, hands lying flat on the bed instead. He flinches a little on the next hit, hissing lowly.

"You've gotten off to a terrible start, slut." Ashton says, grabbing Michael's hip and tugging him back into position.

Michael’s fingers dig into the soft duvet as Ashton spanks him again, the sound of it adding to the loud moan building up in Michael’s throat. His hair is a sweaty mess in his face, his bottom lip bitten raw.

“Are you going to count, or do I have to tell you to do that too?” Ashton’s voice sounds pre-occupied, unattached, like he hasn’t just slapped Michael’s ass an intense shade of red. Michael nearly whines aloud at the insinuation that he doesn’t have all of Ashton’s attention, that he’s not filling his every sense the way Ashton is to Michael. The feeling is new and it makes Michael whimper with how suddenly and forcefully it hits him.

“Three.” Michael spits, a shuddering breath he hadn’t even known he was holding pouring out of him. He assumes it’s been three, but they’re all starting to blur. Ashton slaps him again. Michael steels his hips until the sting of it fades, pushes back against Ashton instead of squirming away. Ashton murmurs in approval and it makes Michael’s heart thrum.

“From the start.” Again.

“One,” Michael gasps.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ashton couldn’t sound any more patronising if he tried.

Michael blood simmers beneath his skin, making him feel hot. He shakes his head, making a conscious effort to keep his hands flat.

“N-no,”

“No, _sir,_ ” Ashton hits him again.

“No, sir.” He whimpers. There’s a tense pause and he realises what he’s missed, and rushes out, “Two.”

“What’s your colour, Michael?” He asks lowly.

“Green.” Michael moans. Green, green, green.

“Want this pretty bad, don’t you?” Another smack.

“Three.” Michael’s head drops, arms quivering with the strain of holding himself up. 

“Came to me, Luke trailing behind you, talking about how you wanted to be taken. We all know Luke couldn’t handle it.”

Ashton brings his palm down again, and when Michael’s hands ball up into fists, he hits him again, harder.

“Your fucking _hands_ , Michael.”

“F-four,” Michael whines, pressing his sweaty palms flat against the bed. “Five.”

“I could see it, you know, the look in your eyes. You looked so desperate for it, Michael. Bet you’d have agreed if I told you I wanted to bend you over right then and there. Didn’t matter that Luke was in the room or not.”

“Six.” Michael chokes out.

“You’d probably have liked that, hm? Luke watching his dom get held down and wrecked like the slut he is.”

“Se-seven.” Michael pants. “Seven.”

“Knew it wouldn’t be particularly easy, you’re the most stubborn person I know. But I think we’ve established who’s in charge here, haven’t we, Mikey?”

Ashton’s words ring in Michael’s ears, the pet name making him whine. He nods slowly, his head heavy. His cheek is against the bed, ass raised up for Ashton.

“Yes, Sir.” He whimpers.

"You getting hard from me spanking your ass?" Ashton says in a low voice, almost a whisper. "Just from the pain of it? You know what that makes you?"

"A- a whore, Sir," Michael moans, the feeling of degradation washing over him when Ashton murmurs in agreement.

"Mhmm. How many do you think you deserve?” Ashton says, slowly pulling Michael’s cheeks apart. Michael moans into the bedsheets.

“As- as many as you want, Sir.”

“As many as I want,” Ashton repeats, sarcasm dripping from his smooth voice, “How kind of you.”

Michael swallows as Ashton runs a finger over his rim. Over and over, until Michael’s legs are cramping with the restraint of not pushing back against it. It’s dry, his finger, and they need to use lube, and Michael knows that but all the same…

“Please, Sir,” Michael chokes out in a rush. Ashton chuckles quietly, like he was waiting, like he knew it was coming.

“Want me to fuck you dry, Michael?” Ashton’s voice is mocking, and Michael is in love with the way his skin heats up as blood flushes through it. 

“Yes, Sir,” Michael moans. “ _Yes, Sir_.”

“I don’t doubt it. But I’d leave you a fucking wreck, Michael, and I don’t feel like waiting on you hand and foot afterwards. Now, listen very closely.”

Ashton slaps his ass again, taking his finger away from Michael’s rim. Michael lets out a sound that’s both a sob and a moan.

“F-fuck.” Michael gasps out, “Eight. Eight.”

Ashton rubs soothing fingertips over his red flesh, pressing against it and making Michael hiss in a cross between pain and pleasure.

“I don’t want to hear you telling me what to do anymore. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” Michael says, choking on his words as Ashton hits him again. “ _Nine._ "

“Who does your body belong to, Michael?” Ashton hums, spanking him again, twice, harder each time.

Michael is nearly incoherent, tears pouring down his cheeks and staining the bed. “Ten.” He gasps, “Eleven. M-my body belongs to you, Sir.”

“So who gets to decide what’s done with it?”

“You do, Sir.” Michael moans. “You do.”

"And what are you, Michael?"

"I'm- I'm-" Michael stammers breathlessly, his mind fuzzy.

"You're a fuck toy, Michael. Here for me to take what _I want_ from you, and nothing more. Is that clear?"

Michael nods quickly, crying out "Yes, Sir!" When Ashton's finger presses harder against his hole.

“Ungrateful little slut.” Ashton spits, making Michael squirm in pleasure. “Every time you want to beg for more, I want you to say thank you instead. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” Michael gasps, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Your colour?” Ashton’s hand rests on the small of Michael’s back. Michael shudders through a sob, gasping for air. Ashton’s hand strokes up his back, rubbing soothing circles down the length of his spine. “It’s okay,” he whispers, “its okay, I’ve got you.”

Michael’s breathing slowly steadies, and he starts to nod, leaning into the soothing feeling of Ashton’s hand.

“Green.” He says finally. He can sense Ashton’s hesitation, so he repeats, louder. “Green. I promise.” Ashton trails his hands back down to Michael’s ass, but just rubs soothingly.

“What do we say?” Ashton hums eventually.

“Th-thank you Sir.”

“What do you want me to do with you?” Michael can feel the mattress lift a little as Ashton gets off. His warm presence is gone, but Michael doesn’t dare move a muscle.

“It's- it's not up to me, Sir.” Michael groans, opening his eyes.

“Damn right it's not.” Michael can hear the smirk in his voice, and his zipper being undone.

He’s hyper aware of his cock, rock hard and probably drooling against his stomach, but something tells him he’s fucked up too much by being so obstinate at the start, to be allowed to come anytime soon. The thought, instead of irritating him, makes him moan softly.

“’M gonna try something new on you.” Ashton says, back behind Michael again. Michael can’t help his desperate nod.

“Such an eager little slut.” Ashton murmurs, pulling Michael’s cheeks apart again. Michael groans at the feel of Ashton’s cool hands on his hot, raw skin, and then, there’s a click and the sound of steady vibrating fills the room.

Michael groans loudly, and Ashton sets the vibrator aside, rubbing suddenly slick fingers against his hole. Slowly, he pushes one in, nails digging harshly against Michael’s skin when he pushes back against it.

“Stay still,” He orders, “Or I’ll fucking leave you here with the vibrator in you.” Michael stills immediately, and Ashton slowly strokes at his walls with his finger. Michael’s eyes squeeze shut because Ashton’s fingers are so fucking long, and his tummy is sticky with all the pre-come.

Ashton adds another finger and Michael’s throat tightens with the urge to push back, fuck himself on them. His breathing becomes more and more laboured as he forces himself not to move. The threat of the vibrator is fresh in his mind, but so is the prospect of Ashton being mad at him and what’s strange to Michael is that the latter sounds less appealing. The thought of himself spasming, being forced to orgasm after orgasm on a relentless toy doesn’t compare to Ashton being angry with him.

With the third finger, Ashton has found his prostate. His fingers curl against it like he knew exactly where it was and had just been avoiding it, eliciting a loud whimper from Michael. His teeth dig into his lip hard.

Ashton spanking him again is a shock, and he reels at it for a second, forcing himself not to jerk at the intensity.

“Good boy.” Ashton says quietly, and Michael keens at the praise.

Ashton massages his prostate softly, slowly driving Michael crazy. The knot in his stomach tightens and it feels like he's building up to the biggest orgasm of his life.

Just when Michael is about to start begging, Ashton pulls out his fingers, making Michael whine. He up the toy that’s been vibrating against Michael’s calf. Michael feels it at his rim, his breath catching as Ashton keeps it there for a minute, rubbing against his hole, slick with lube.

“You want it?” Ashton asks, twisting the first inch or so into Michael’s body.

Michael moans at the thickness of it, the thrumming of the toy making his head spin.

 _Please, Sir_ is his first instinct, but he takes a minute to get his thoughts together before answering.

“Doesn’t- doesn’t matter what I want, S-sir,” he whines as Ashton slowly rotates it, thrusting it shallowly further into him.

“No,” Ashton says, “It doesn’t. But I think I’d like to see you come untouched all over your pretty pink tummy. _I'd_ like to turn you over, bend your knees up to your chest, fuck you until you’re screaming. How’s that sound, Michael?”

Michael is gone. Ashton is teasing with him, playing with him, he knows, but he can’t- can’t keep up, not with the toy halfway inside of him, vibrating mercilessly against his walls, his cock full and sensitive against his stomach.

“Use me, Sir,” Michael groans out, taking a page from his own sub’s book. Luke had the most talented mouth he’d ever seen, could coerce Michael into doing exactly what he wanted without necessarily begging. “Use me, make your- yourself c-come with me, S-sir.”

“You want to be used?” Ashton’s voice sounds a little huskier.

“It doesn’t matter.” Michael whimpers. God yes, he wants to be used, he wants everything Ashton said, he wants so much more. With that, Ashton pushes the toy all the way into Michael, making him cry out.

“If you push back against this toy one more time, you’re getting fifty strokes.” Ashton lets him know. The threat is like a jolt to his core, pushing Michael farther down into that hazy place in his head.

“Yes, Sir,” he mewls, “Thank you, Sir.”

Ashton fucks the toy into him faster, burying it inside Michael every few seconds, letting him feel the vibrations until he’s whimpering and babbling nonsense, before withdrawing it from him, starting the cycle again.

It’s not until the curved tip brushes against Michael’s spot that it feels like he can’t breathe, like his stomach’s dropped through the floor, like his body is Ashton’s and his alone, for him to use as he pleases.

“Thank you, Sir,” Michael cries out. “Thank you, Sir, thank you, thank you, thank you.” He’s going to come, but he doesn’t dare do so without Ashton’s permission. He lifts his head off the bedsheets, so his words are clearer. “Sir, I’m going to- to-“

“Go ahead.” Ashton says, holding the toy inside him, the vibrating tip pressing harshly against his prostate. Just when Michael feels like he’s being tipped over the edge, the toy is pulled out of him, so fast, he’s in a daze.

He wants to scream, the frustrating feeling of denial pulsing through his veins, making the hairs of his body stand on end. His cock drips against his stomach, making him whine.

“Sir,” is all he says, voice hoarse with need.

Ashton waits about thirty seconds, thirty seconds of Michael’s wailing dying down into silence as he calms down, before thrusting the toy into him again. Michael cries out, body shaking with the effort of not pushing back, of not writhing against it.

“I’m- I-” he gasps within less than a minute, throat tightening as he tries to plead without begging. Ashton knows exactly which spots to hit, how to drive Michael crazy.

“Gonna come?” He murmurs, to which Michael nods desperately. Ashton slowly twists the toy out, leaving Michael on the edge again, clenching around nothing. His eyes squeeze shut, his stomach flips.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Get on your back.” Is all Ashton says, moving away from Michael. Michael whines, already mourning the closeness, but does as Ashton says, his muscles protesting a little at the stiffness. The sheets are soft against his backside but the friction still makes him hiss softly.

Ashton looks at his face, his tear-stained cheeks, hooded eyes, red swollen lips. “What’s your colour?” He asks, face softening.

“No more,” Michael hiccups, “No more teasing, please. Hurts.” Ashton’s eyes trail down to his cock, curved against his stomach. The tip is flushed an angry red colour. His eyes flash back to Michael’s face.

“Colour?” He asks again.

“I don’t know, I don’t- Maybe- maybe yellow,” He breathes, looking at Ashton, wary of his reaction. He doesn’t want Ashton to be unhappy with him. In the back of his head, he knows it’s stupid. They’d talked about this for ages before Ashton would agree to touch him, gone through the traffic light system a million times like Michael had never used it before. All the same, the urge to please is almost overwhelming.

Ashton nods seriously, affection clear in his eyes. He leans down to kiss Michael’s lips tenderly, his tongue sliding against his until Michael’s ragged breathing is even.

“Okay.” Ashton murmurs against his lips, “No more teasing.”

Michael just nods, and nearly starts crying again at how lovely Ashton is to him.

His hands slide down Michael’s waist, to his thighs, spreading his legs a little. Ashton’s cock is warm and hard against him, making him whimper quietly.

Ashton ruts against him, before pressing against his rim and slowly filling him. Michael gasps at the sensation, at his length, his warmth, how fucking big he is. Ashton groans quietly too, hips bucking up into Michael until he’s buried in him to the hilt.

“So fucking tight,” He groans, making Michael whimper, “So good for me, yeah? Waiting for me to tell you you can come?”

Michael mewls at the praise, nodding. He’s been close for so long, he can barely breathe.

“Come.” As soon as the words leave Ashton’s mouth, Michael clenches around him, moaning Ashton’s name loudly.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” he cries out, arching desperately against Ashton’s relentless hips. He doesn’t stop pounding into him, if anything, he increases his pace, fucking him right through his orgasm, showing him who he belongs to.

“For what?” Ashton grunts, rolling his hips into Michael’s

“For- for using me, for fucking me,”

“Mmm,” Ashton hums, mouth latching onto the skin just below Michael’s ear, sucking harshly until Michael is whimpering, gasping as oversensitivity hits him full force. “Who else has used this fuck hole, Mikey? How many other people?”

Michael shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut as Ashton starts to leave hickeys all over his neck, “No one, Sir,” he sounds so weak, so fucking desperate, “No one but you.”

“Fucking liar.” Ashton almost sounds amused. “Slut like you, you probably go around begging for it, don’t you, Michael? Like you want to do now.” Ashton’s large hand splays itself across Michael’s stomach, fingers spreading the come there over Michael’s chest. He uses the same hand to reach down, squeeze Michael’s cock gently.

Michael gasps, stomach tightening as Ashton slowly jerks him off, his pace reduced a little.

“Look at you,” Ashton breathes. “Almost half hard again. Are you going to beg for me, Mikey?” Ashton says, into his ear like the most sinful secret he’s ever heard.

“Sir,” Michael’s voice is pleading; he’s not allowed, Ashton said he’s not allowed, fuck, what is he doing to him. “Th… thank you, Sir.”

“You’re allowed to beg.” Ashton says after a minute, twisting his wrist to add to the friction on Michael’s cock. Michael lets out a long, shuddering breath of relief.

“Please,” He whimpers, “Please, Sir, I won’t- won’t last long if you keep- I need to you to-“ The words come out in fragments of sentences he’s been holding back for so long. Ashton rubs his thumb firmly over the tip, making Michael shiver.

A second later, Ashton releases his cock, thrusting into Michael faster, fucking him so his body moves up the bed each time. “You don’t tell me what you need, or are you so fucked out that you’ve forgotten?” Ashton hisses.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Michael sobs, nearly screaming as Ashton hits his prostate, over and over and over, a mess of desperate, “ThankyouSirThankyouSirThankyouSir” pouring from his swollen lips.

“You’re going to come on my cock again, Mikey, yeah?” Ashton asks, kissing his lips once. Michael nods, and Ashton’s hand wraps around his cock again. Michael lets out a sob as he thumbs at the head, and Ashton presses his lips against Michael’s, properly this time, kissing him tenderly.

“You’re going to come so fucking hard for me, Mikey,” Ashton groans, hips rutting sloppily into Michael. Michael whimpers, his body arching against Ashton’s, little moans of ‘please’ tumbling out of his mouth.

“Oh- f-fuck,” Michael gasps, “Sir-“

“Yeah?” Ashton smiles against Michael’s lips. Michael sucks in a ragged, breath, a sob building in his throat as Ashton’s fingers tease his balls. “Shh,” he whispers, jerking him off faster, “You can come, love, it’s okay.”

Michael grunts quietly, and Ashton changes his angle, so Michael can feel him better, the head of his cock pressing insistently up against his prostate. As Michael starts to stiffen, his mouth opening in a silent scream, he fills Ashton fill him. Michael’s eyes squeeze shut and everything goes white as he’s drowned in the sheer fucking sensation of it, slumping onto the bed uselessly as he starts to come down.

As he comes back to his senses, he realises he’s talking, tears streaming down his cheeks, “Th-thank you, S-sir, thank you,” he sobs out, until Ashton presses their lips together again, pulling out of Michael slowly. He pulls away to wipe at his tears, stroking his cheeks softly with his thumbs.

“Shh, its okay babe, its okay. You did good love, so good, so good for me.”

“Ash?” Michael whines out, head spinning as he starts to pull away from him.

“Right here, ‘m right here baby.” Ashton’s voice is soft and kind, but he doesn’t make any move to cuddle Michael so he says again,

“Ash.”

“Look at me,” Ashton says softly, his voice coaxing his eyelids to flutter open. Ashton is looking at him with nothing but adoration in his eyes, and it settles the weird tight feeling in Michael’s stomach a bit. “I’m going to get some towels, then I’m going to call Luke, tell him to come over. Sound good?” He strokes a hand through Michael’s hair.

Michael nods, “Yeah,” he whispers, the thought of his boyfriend holding him settling him completely. “You’ll stay too?”

“’Course I will.” Ashton breathes, standing up. “One minute, tops.” He promises, going into the bathroom.

When Ashton comes back, he’s clean, and he cleans Michael up until the only evidence of the last hour are the dark bruises on Michael’s skin and the soreness in his muscles. He kisses Michael’s tummy when he’s done, making Michael smile sleepily.

There’s a knock on the door, and then Luke comes in, clad in a tee shirt and basketball shorts, face lighting up when he sees Michael.

Michael reaches for him, making grabby hands. Luke laughs quietly and goes for him, pressing a kiss to Michael’s lips.

“How do you feel?” Ashton asks him, when Luke pulls away, still looking a little worried.

“’M fine,” Michael murmurs, “feel good.”

“Sleepy?” Luke asks, to which Michael nods.

“Yeah. Can we all cuddle?”

They both murmur in agreement, and find themselves in a tangle of long limbs and content sighs.

“Calum’s pissed he wasn’t invited.” Luke yawns after a minute, “Told him there’s always next time.”

Michael smiles weakly, “Already planning, Luke?” He laughs.

“What d’you have in mind?” Ashton sounds amused.

Luke giggles, “There’s loads of time to work _that_ out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me on tumblr, gonnamuke.tumblr.com


End file.
